


To Dream.

by enormouseffort (orphan_account)



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 02:15:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21028610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/enormouseffort
Summary: Jamie and Claire meet in a coffee shop and what could quite well be just a dream becomes a reality.





	To Dream.

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up in a bright mood and decided to post this little ficlet that was sitting on my drafts for a while. It’s a little story based on a Brazillian song called Para Sonhar (To dream) by Marcelo Jeneci, give it a listen if you’d like, it’s used a lot in weddings around here. It’s a lovely song and it makes me think of Jamie looking at Claire ;)

When he saw her entering the coffee shop, after walking carelessly on the street, curls falling from her bun and dancing with the soft breeze, he was paralyzed, stuck in place as if he was hit by a bolt of lightning. His knees wobbled and he was glad that he was sitting as it stopped him from falling on the floor. He felt as if there was an earthquake, his heart doing somersaults inside of him, letting go of himself and jumping straight to her wee hands. 

He should get back to his lesson planning -the very reason he went to the coffee shop was to procrastinate on doing so- but he simply could not move, simply stood there, watching her as she waited in the line of the cashier at the cafe. She turned to him, almost as if she was aware that he was staring at her, could feel his gaze burning on her neck and head. Still, instead of scolding him, asking him what the hell was wrong, she just smiled at him, ducking her head slightly and turning forward once more. He got a peek at her eyes then, lovely whiskey eyes, almost like those of a cougar. Beautiful. Strong. Fearless. 

He knew then that he would let go of a thousand things, say goodbye to all he knew, just to tell her that he would drop everything and marry her on the spot. Maybe on a Sunday, on a sunny day, or at the sea -even with his seasickness, if that was her wish. His heart was just like a plane, ready to fly, going far away with no time to return. 

Aye, he knew that there was a story to dream about. 

When it was her turn at the line, he was stunned again, for she did not leave the shop with her coffee cup and snack in a paper bag -as it appeared she would. No, no. She walked straight to him and asked if she could sit with him. 

“Be my guest,” he stood up, gesturing awkwardly at the seat in front of him with his hands. She laughed a bit and sat with him. “James Fraser,” he added, offering his hand for her to shake. 

“Claire Beauchamp.” She took it gladly, a smile on her face equal to his. They looked for a minute across the window in front of them, when he turned to her and began to talk. 

They talked and talked for what felt like minutes, but actually, were hours without end. 

She was a nurse, she told him, recently moved to Glasgow to study medical school, since she always wanted to be a doctor. He, in his turn, told her how he worked as an English teacher at a High and Middle school in the same city, having lived in Scotland most of his life. 

She was a traveller, had told him so, growing up with her backpack and her archaeologist uncle. His family owned a farm near Inverness and she told him how she had heard that the area near the town was beautiful. He, without thinking, as in one of these lapses of the tongue that reveal the heart wishes, told her that he would take her there someday, that he hoped it wouldn’t disappoint. 

They talked and laughed and what could quite well have been just a dream had become a reality. From little meetings here and there to very long phone calls and spontaneous text messages throughout the day. From each small step to small step, they build their own thing, their own world. Almost as in a carrousel, that comes and goes and never stops. From such non-stopping, they arrived there, on the other side of the mountain that separates one from those they are destinated to meet, to be with. 

He knew that he would go anywhere with her, drop everything, as soon as she said she wanted him to be hers and hers to be his in return. 

Theirs was a story to dream about, a story to tell children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren. A story to dream about forever and ever, remembering the early days as their joys only multiplied over the years together. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
